


Winter in Our Bones, Fire in Our Hearts

by MissEmmanuelle



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dom!Jon, F/M, first fic i had to write so much about clothes wtf, i loved writing this, slight BDSM, sub!Sansa
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-19 20:13:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14880464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissEmmanuelle/pseuds/MissEmmanuelle
Summary: Jon and Sansa makes plans for the future of Winterfell. But before that, Jon needs to settle a matter with Sansa - and teach her a lesson.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kittykatknits](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittykatknits/gifts).



> One of my canon divergent smut fics lol (yaay, it's finally here on A03!) but I could not do this without the lovely help from the legendary KittyKatKnits!
> 
> unbeta'd so pardon the mistakes!
> 
> Thanks hun!
> 
> Enjoy, smut lovers! lol
> 
> Elle xxx

“Would that be so terrible?” her voice softened along with her pleading eyes that glistened. There was nothing more for him to continue and he could only give a defeated sigh. Jon could only wonder if Sansa had any idea the effect she had on him.

_How I wish you didn’t look at me that way._

Her long locks of copper, her soft red lips and her eyes staring hungrily at him were all that appeared in his dreams, every night whenever he closed his eyes and laid his head down to rest. When he awoke, he was hard as a rock, aching with need and guilt. It did little to stop him, however, when he found himself thinking of her, in her Lord’s chambers, knitting and sewing or if she was reading her favourite books. More often than not, those thoughts drifted to visions of Sansa undressing before him and how he yearned to reach out and touch.

“A raven from King’s Landing, your Grace,” Maester Wolkan gently interrupted Jon’s thoughts and handed him the scroll. Sansa eyed it cautiously.

“Who is it?” Sansa asked, following Jon as he strode out onto the battlements.

“Queen Cersei of House Lannister; First of her name, Queen of the Andals and the First Men; Protector of the Seven Kingdoms.”

“What does she want?”

“Come to King’s Landing. Bend the knee or suffer the fate of all traitors,” Jon said as he peered out at the snowy horizon before him. Winterfell was beautiful in the winter.

“You’ve been too consumed with the enemy to the North that you’ve forgotten about the one to the South,” Sansa sighed worriedly.

“I’ve been consumed by the Night King because I’ve seen him. Believe me, you’d think of little else, if you had to-“

“We still have a Wall between us and the Night King, there’s nothing between us and Cersei!” Sansa pointed out, bewildered at how Jon could afford to be so oblivious to it.

“There’s a thousand miles between us and Cersei. Winter is here and the Lannisters are a Southern army. They’ll never range this far North.”

“You’re the military man but I know her. If you’re her enemy, she’ll never stop till she’s destroyed you. Everyone who’s ever crossed her, she’s found a way to murder!” Sansa reminded him, hoping Jon would finally understand.

“You almost sound as if you admire her.”

Sansa glanced down, inhaling deeply to halt the memories as they came flooding back.

_I don’t. I hate her. I wish she was dead for all she has done to our family._

“I learned a great deal from her,” she said quietly.

Jon couldn’t tear his eyes away from Sansa and caught her chewing on her lip nervously. Jon suddenly felt a tightening in his breeches.

“Is that what she taught you? Speaking to me like that, in front of the lords and ladies?”

Sansa looked up and glared at him. There were tears in her eyes that were on the verge of streaming down her face. Jon regretted the words the moment he said them.

“I want to help you, Jon. I wasn’t undermining you.”

Jon adjusted himself as discreetly as he could to alleviate the discomfort of his stiff cock underneath his garments. There was just something about gentle and soft Sansa that ignited his depraved and perverted carnal desire and need. For her and her only. It had reached unbearable levels and any more, he would have to rip her dress to shreds and have her right there bent over the snowy battlements.

“You want to help, do you?” Jon inched closer to Sansa and cradled her face gently in his gloved hands, reminiscent of the time when he pressed a kiss on her forehead. There were other parts of her he yearned to kiss now.

“Yes, Jon. Please.”

“Come with me,” Jon seized Sansa’s hands and led her out of the freezing cold.

* * *

Jon closed the heavy door and locked it securely, certain that no one had seen them. That was the only good thing about being King, that no one would dare question where he went or what he did. Perhaps, except for Sansa. He would answer those questions soon, but for now, he had something to show her.

“Jon, I just want you to do the right thing. Because you’re good at this, you know,” Sansa turned to face him as they stood in his solar, the small fire softly lighting and warming the musky air. Jon removed his cloak and sword belt, placing them on the small bureau next to him.

“At what exactly?”

“At ruling. They respect you and they-“

“Do you respect me, Sansa?”

Sansa paused and offered him a gentle smile, one that came from the depths of her heart. He had shown nothing but respect and kindness to her thus far. Perhaps, he was the  _only_  man she knew who was kind and honourable and treated her with respect. Her heart fluttered at the realisation.

“Yes, Jon I do.”

Jon smirked and removed his leather doublet and tossed it on a nearby chair as he approached Sansa. Sansa watched as Jon, now clad in only his woollen tunic closing in on the gap between them.

“Good. Will you do as you’re told, Sansa?”

Sansa blinked at Jon who was now mere inches from her, his warm breath billowing gently on her face.  _I would do anything to keep Winterfell and you alive._

“Jon… Yes. I would.”

Jon’s eyes roamed all over Sansa and finally rested on her confused gaze. He held on to it for as long as he could, in a show of dominance which he hadn’t a clue from whence it surfaced. Only Sansa could do this to him – twisting him inside like no one else could.

“Good. Show me.” Jon’s fingers grazed the metal direwolf clasp that fastened her cloak. “Take this off.”

Sansa wasn’t sure how it all occurred, in the blink of an eye – how she was hypnotised by his dark grey eyes that were relentlessly devouring her whole. Her fur cloak dropped to the floor.

“Turn around.”

Sansa hesitated. The memory of Ramsay and his filthy murderous hands roaming all over her back and tearing her gown on their wedding night flashed in her mind. Sansa grabbed Jon’s hand as his fingers brushed against her shoulder.

“Jon… Please.”

Jon paused, sensing the apprehension in her voice - recalling how she once told him quite vaguely of how she endured Ramsay’s abuse. Jon was certain Sansa’s maidenhead was taken without her consent on the night of their bedding. He inhaled deeply and shut his eyes, remorse slowly rising within him. Sansa turned and glanced at him from her shoulder and released her grip. Jon was met with soft blue eyes full of love and respect greeting him as he opened his.

“If you want to help me, Sansa,” he whispered in her ears and the scent of lavender and roses wafted into his nostrils, flaming the fire of desire inside of him even more as his cock hardened against the skirt of her dress. “I know a way.”

“Jon-“

“You will call me your Grace, my Lady. Now, let me take off your dress,” Jon softly pressed his lips against her ears as he uttered the command. Jon tucked away her amber locks to the side as he pulled at the laces that held the bodice together. Jon smiled as he felt Sansa shiver under his ministrations.

“Sansa, you are the most beautiful Lady I have ever met. Has anyone ever told you that?”

Sansa wasn’t sure what to answer. Tyrion had mentioned it to her once or twice but surely it was out of courtesy. Sandor merely grunted and often stared at her bosom more than she cared for. Littlefinger had told her constantly how her beauty reminded him of her mother’s. And Ramsay only wanted to see her comely face contort in pain as he did all the unspeakable things to her. 

_I was beautiful to monsters and imps. And here I stand, with you, my bastard King.._

Sansa shook her head nervously and licked her lips. Her mouth had gone dry.

“No, your Grace. You’re the first.”

“I find that hard to believe but aye, you are a beauty. A Lady of Winterfell,” Jon spoke seductively, the words dragged along in his voice, soft yet tense and close to her ears. Sansa stood still yet she trembled as Jon’s hands deftly undid her laces and soon she felt the flesh on her back prickled with goosebumps, reacting to the mix of warmth and chill in the air.

Sansa felt Jon’s hands leave her back and then heard a rustling of clothes from behind her. She craved so much to turn around to steal a look but something in her warned against it. It wasn’t fear that crawled up within her but something else, something she’d never felt before. Sansa sensed a slight dampness in between her thighs as she yielded to the thought.

Once again, Jon’s warm calloused hands were on her, her bare flesh this time and Sansa let out a quiet whimper.

“Did you like that, Sansa? Did you like that when I touch you?”

Sansa sighed deeply and nodded, her face turned to the side where she could see Jon from the corner of her eye.

“Your Grace.. I do.”

That was all it took for Jon to push the heavy woollen dress off her shoulders and let it drop onto the floor. Sansa let out a gasp and immediately felt the cold jab at her skin despite her chemise and small clothes still on her.

“Turn around, Sansa.”

“Look at me, my Lady,” Jon repeated his order, quietly but firmly. Sansa’s eyes lifted to meet his gaze and saw a bare chested Jon in only his breeches. There was a noticeable bulge she was unable to tear her gaze away from and the angry dark scars that adorned his chest made her wince.

“Sansa… You’re right. I need your help. I need you.”

“Your Grace… What do you want me to do?” Sansa’s voice quivered. This was all very peculiar to her, very peculiar of Jon; it was not at all like the Jon she knew. Still, there was a will in her to obey him. All the lessons she had learned in King’s Landing was now second nature in her.

Jon’s arm snaked around her waist and Sansa could only look on helplessly, stunned and shocked yet mesmerised at the sheer force as he gripped her, yanking her closer to him. Sansa felt heady at how intoxicating he smelled, like leather and ale. Sansa licked her lips once more, this time in anticipation and Jon watched her tongue flick deliciously over her bottom lip with their faces almost touching.

“Jon-“

_SMACK!_

A hand came down firmly on her bottom that jolted Sansa out her daze. Sansa could only stare at Jon whose stubborn erection was pointing directly at her sex. He squeezed her closer to him and nipped at her neck and Sansa threw her head back at the sudden titillation.

“I told you to address me as Your Grace, did I not, my Lady?” Jon reminded her, in between his kisses and nuzzling on the smooth flesh of her neck and her shoulder.

“Yes.. Yes.. Your Grace.”

“You really shouldn’t speak like that to me, in front of our bannermen, ever again. Do you hear me Sansa?” Jon demanded as he cupped her head and whispered hotly in her ears. Sansa whimpered as Jon’s mouth nibbled on her ear lobe and his hands tugging at her hair.

“Yes… Yes, your Grace.”

“You won’t undermine me like that ever again. Do you hear me? I am your King, am I not, my Lady?”

It got the better of her and Sansa finally let out a moan as Jon’s fingers wandered over her chest and thumbed one of her teats. Sansa came back to her senses as she felt Jon move away, but it lasted only for a second – as he ripped her chemise open and her small clothes came off with it. Sansa’s heart pounded wildly and she could hear its thumping loud and clear in her ears as Jon pulled her closer to him once more, naked and aroused.

“Yes, your Grace. I won’t undermine you like that again,” Sansa answered breathlessly as she closed her eyes, feeling Jon hands squeezing and kneading the ample flesh of her bottom. Her inner thighs were slick now and Sansa never knew she could feel this way. Never in her young life, had she imagined it was with Jon.

“Do you swear it?” Jon’s words burned hot as he held her head close to his mouth and Sansa sank deeper into his arms.

“I do. I swear it.. your Grace.”

“Good girl.”

Sansa’s eyes fluttered open as Jon twirled her around and pushed her gently towards the stone wall. A familiar panic spread within her and Sansa found herself resisting but Jon’s scent emanating from her own skin elicited a strange calmness and obedience. The walls were warm as she pressed against them under the gentle pressure from Jon’s body on hers. Again, she yearned for Jon’s lips on her, his teeth scraping against her skin, biting and feasting on her forbidden flesh. 

_A Lannister… Cersei Lannister… Jamie Lannister…_

“In light of what happened today, I think it is only proper that you be chastened for it, my Lady,” Jon said as he tugged her hair and pulled her to face him. Sansa moaned and looked deep into Jon’s eyes, there was nothing more she hungered for than to have him inside of her. There was fire burning in her heart and in her flesh and only Jon could relieve her of it. “Do you accept your punishment?”

Sansa mewled as she felt Jon’s cock prodding at her entrance and it was torturous. Sansa only wished Jon pulled her hair harder.

“Yes… your Grace.. I accept my punishment.”

Jon’s mouth slowly curved into a sly smile as he draped his arms around her waist and positioned himself as he smothered Sansa’s back and neck with greedy kisses.

“As you wish… my Lady,” Jon said as he pushed himself in one swift movement into her hot wet heat. Sansa’s eyes widened and felt her legs buckle at the sudden invasion of Jon’s stiff cock entering her.

“Ahh.. your.. Grace…” Sansa moaned as Jon thrusted into her slowly yet forcefully and every time their bodies met, Sansa felt a wave of pleasure hit her and blossom from her very core.

“Sans… Sansa… Uhhh..” Jon chanted her name over and over as he rocked away into her snug hot flesh. It was better than his dreams, having her melt in his arms, his hard cock wrapped tightly within her inner walls.

“How do you.. like.. your punishment now… my Lady?” Jon panted as he pistoned in and out of Sansa, now a wretched glutton for her cunt as he watched how her inner walls clung onto his stiff rod of flesh as he pushed in and pulled out of her. Jon howled as a clenching came on and sucked on his cock as Sansa shivered uncontrollably under him.

“Uhhh.. your Grace… Uhh! Please.. don’t stop,” Sansa begged Jon as she grasped blindly at the flat walls for something to hold on to. Sansa felt the pressure too great to bear as it grew inside of her and with Jon’s cock providing the pleasurable friction, she salivated at the mind bending pleasure that accompanied.

“Unhhh! Sansa… my Lady.. you are… divine… my Queen,” Jon cooed as he pulled both her arms back and pressed them down firmly behind her. The clenching was now getting more frequent and Jon caved in to his baser desires as he began pounding hard and fast into Sansa, feeling his own wave of pleasure drawing near.

“Your Grace… Touch me,” Sansa pleaded as her body moved with his and Jon could only nod breathlessly. Pressing her wrists down with one hand, Jon’s left hand snaked around her hip and found a small thatch of hair and a tiny fleshy nub protruding slightly from her folds. Jon’s fingers brushed against it and Sansa buckled at his touch.

“Ahh! Jon.. yes.. there.. don’t stop.. please!”

“Unhhh… Sansa!” Jon cried out her name as her hot tight walls clamped down on his cock, squeezing and contracting on his flesh as Sansa moaned and whimpered incoherently. Jon struggled to rein in his own peak and trembled as rope after rope of his seed filled her hungry quim. His cock throbbed as it emptied inside of Sansa who was leaning her head against the wall for support. Jon felt his legs weaken and slowly slumped against Sansa’s back.

There was a quiet reverie in the midst of heavy panting and heaving bosoms as both Sansa and Jon recollected themselves and took in what had transpired between them. Sansa took a deep breath as she attempted to stand properly and recompose herself, her hand still firmly on the wall.

“Sansa…” Jon struggled to find the words to address his Lady of Winterfell, whom he had just debauched and shame stabbed him like a thousand knives. He was supposed to be her protector, her King and she was meant to be by his side as his counsel, advise him and to be near him always. Not for him to take her in his bed and treat like a common whore. Jon shut his eyes and staggered to his bed to sit down. There was much to think about now but his mind was only filled with how moments ago, had just pressed Sansa against the wall and fucked her to oblivion.

“Your Grace.. “ Sansa looked down as she responded to his call. Sansa meekly picked up her torn small clothes and her dress. Jon watched painfully as Sansa dressed herself and toss the torn garments aside.

“Sansa.. I .. I,” still the words escaped him and Jon decided it was better to keep silent, lest he said something offensive.

Sansa smoothed down her hair as she draped the cloak over her shoulders and walked towards the locked door. Jon waited for something to happen but this Sansa, the one who fought for Winterfell alongside him, was one he wasn’t well acquainted with. Sansa turned to face Jon as she held the door.

“I understand, your Grace. I do. Perfectly. And if you ever feel the need to chasten… You may come find me, your Grace,” Sansa’s downcast eyes finally met his as she spoke. Gone was the sweet, innocent girl he once knew. 

_I’m fucked. Royally fucked. I love her. I love Sansa Stark._

Jon could only nod in response. He thought he would never love another. Not since Ygritte.

He was wrong. Irrevocably so. He may be damned to hell for it, for loving his half- sister and marking her as his. He had left a part of him with her now.

May the gods forgive him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After that night, Jon and Sansa are inseparable. But the Great War is coming and a King must do his duty. But not before he makes it clear to whom Sansa belongs to. And to whom he'll come home to when all is over and done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt for jonsa-creatives on Tumblr.
> 
> redwolf1283 asked:  
> Promt: Sansa sees Jon in the crypts choking LF and gets really hot. Hope that's okay to ask for. Thank you
> 
> Yep, THAT choking scene. You know, the one that didn't make sense to anyone except Jonsa shippers *giggle*
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Elle xxx (jonsaforlife/jonsa-creatives on Tumblr - come say hi!)

Sansa bristled at the thought how Jon scurried about getting ready to leave for White Harbour and yet there had been no word of him seeking her private audience to say goodbye. Didn’t she deserve at least a word or two after all that they had been through together?

After that night, when he took her pressed against the wall, her lips crying out his name and more…  And now he was going to leave her. Leave whatever they had started. She wasn’t ready to let go yet. Not in the hands of a Dragon Queen whom they kept calling beautiful. Jon was hers as she was his and there could be no one else who would stand in between. She couldn’t imagine anyone else touching her but Jon. His hands, his mouth, his cock… could do nothing wrong. They all belonged to her and hers only.

A dull ache came from deep within her and it pierced her heart and soul, how she may never see him again. Tears welled up in her eyes and Sansa blinked, wiping away hastily, hoping no one would notice.

_No, I must see him. I have to. I need to. I don’t want him to go.. maybe he’ll change his mind. I’ll make him change his mind._

“Brienne, I have to say goodbye to Jon. Do you know where he is?” Sansa turned to the lady knight and her squire who accompanied closely behind.

“I believe I saw him walk into the crypts, my Lady,” Podrick came to Brienne’s rescue when she gave Sansa a blank look.

“Alone?”

“Aye, I did not see anyone with him, my Lady.”

“All right. Well.. I have to say goodbye to him - “ Sansa clutched at her furs draped around her neck, slightly nervous at the thought of heading to the tombs. It was a dark place that only reminded her of death, pain and regret. 

“Alone,” Sansa added quietly to Brienne who was ready to follow. The lady knight only nodded and watched as Sansa made her way down. 

* * *

“You don’t belong down here,” Jon growled at the thin beady eyed gentleman. This was a sacred space for him and scum like Littlefinger was defilement with his presence.

“Forgive me. We have never talked.. properly. I wanted to remedy that,” Petyr Baelish offered as he turned his attention to Jon. There was nothing more Jon wished to say, hoping Lord Baelish would leave him be. There was a lot on his mind and in his heart, as Jon quietly begged for forgiveness from Ned Stark looking on at his statue that stood tall and regal. 

_Forgive me, Lord Stark. Forgive me, Father. If I die this time, it would be an atonement… For what I did to Sansa. Watch over her and Winterfell._

Jon sighed, in an attempt to release the growing tension that had fastened onto his entire being. “I’ve nothing to say to you,” Jon snarled and gave a polite smile as he turned to leave. There was something on the tip of Littlefinger’s tongue but Jon was not in the mood for it.

“Not even thank you?”

It stopped Jon dead in his tracks. He took in another deep breath.

  _I dare you to continue, you scum._

“If it weren’t for me, you would’ve been slaughtered at that battlefield. You have many enemies, my King, but I swear to you… I’m not one of them,” Petyr continued. A storm of emotions  _and_  rage rose rapidly inside Jon, feeling his face hot and twitching uncomfortably at the drawl of a man who sold his beloved Sansa to enemies that killed their family.

“…I love Sansa.. as I loved her mother..”

Jon’s fists clenched at hearing her name drip from Petyr’s lips and it was all but a blur, when his hands flew to clutch firmly at the silk clothed throat and pinned the small man hard against the wall. It was easy considering how puny and afraid he was and how much of an enraged, jealous monster Jon had become. 

 _Sansa… is mine._  

Petyr pulled away desperately at the choking clamp on his neck, failing miserably as Jon stared down at him, his grey eyes growing dark with fury. Any second longer, Petyr’s neck would snap in two.

“Touch my sister… and I’ll kill you myself.”

Jon huffed as he finally released his grip and gave the Lord of Harrenhal a final look of warning before taking leave of his company. Petyr frantically gasped for air and inhaled deep breaths, adjusting his collar as he made his way out as calmly as he could muster. He hoped no one had seen their exchange, though it seemed highly peculiar at how Jon behaved at the mere mention of his  _sister_. 

It had seemed peculiar too, and  _dangerous_  - to Sansa, when she caught sight of Jon choking Littlefinger when he mentioned her name. Perhaps she wasn’t meant to see it but it made her glad that she did. It brought her hunger and aching need for Jon to dizzying heights; oh, how it sent her heart racing and the growing dampness to settle in between her thighs.  _Oh, Jon…_

It was dangerous because Littlefinger was a cunning and sly man and nothing would get past him;  _dangerous_  because Sansa found herself in love with Jon and it was clear he felt the same - and finally,  _dangerous_  for both of them should they be found out. The North never forgets. And for what they have done, the North may never forgive.

_One day that snake of a man will die and I will make sure of it._

* * *

“Jon.” 

He turned to see a a head of fiery red locks and pleading blue eyes calling out to him from behind the stone walls. Jon wished to say goodbye but he wasn’t comfortable with farewells, especially not with Sansa. His heart yearned to stay but his honour compelled him to deal with the greater threat at hand. He would protect the North, Winterfell and Sansa at all costs, whatever it took. The North would always be a part of him and there was nothing he wouldn’t do for it. And for Sansa. 

_She would make a wonderful Queen someday._

Jon glanced around him quickly and walked over to Sansa. The memory of her scent, her heat wrapped around him was still fresh in his mind. How he ached for her once more.

Sansa pulled him into the crypts and sealed the gates shut. 

“Sansa… I have to go. You know I have to. I wanted to say goodbye but-”

“I saw you and Littlefinger.”

“Sansa.. what you saw.. It was just-”

“There’s no one else who will have me but you, my King, if you must know,” Sansa whispered as her hands slowly made her way to him and grabbed his cloak, pulling him closer. 

“Sansa…” Jon muttered her name in one breath. And in the next, their mouths clashed and Sansa felt herself melting in his arms as he wrapped them firmly around her. 

“Come back to me,” Sansa sighed as she pressed her forehead against his.

“I will-”

“Promise me, you’ll come back home. Our home, Jon. I will be waiting for you, my King… Return to me,” Sansa continued and shut her eyes tightly, silently praying in her heart as those words echoed in her mind.

“Aye, my Queen. I will. I promise. Always, for you.”


End file.
